


Honest Work

by juniperallura



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: #let shiro rest 2k17, Childhood Memories, Fluff, Gen, Young Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:32:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperallura/pseuds/juniperallura
Summary: Based on my random HC that Shiro likes to garden because it's peaceful and dear god someone give that man some rest





	Honest Work

The day was hot, oppressive with summer humidity. The sun beat down on his mop of black hair, making it feel like his head was a mud brick being baked into scorched clay. Beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck, the side of his face. His muscles ached from the weight of the full watering can, which swung in his hanging arms like an unbalanced pendulum. Warm water sloshed over his sneakers as he tipped the can toward the patch of dirt dotted with little mounds that reached up toward the summer rays.

“Careful, Takashi,” his mother cautioned, pushing up the edge of her wide-brimmed hat to watch him pour. “We don’t want the seeds to drown.”

“Sorry.” Shiro tightened his grip on the handle, brow knitting and tongue peeking out from his lips as he concentrated on sprinkling the garden evenly. Finally his mom nodded and he set the watering can heavily on the ground with a huff. He wiped his wet hands on the front of his shirt, already streaked with dirt like the knees of his pants. He gave his mom a wide-eyed look, silently asking what she knew had been on his mind since they had come out to that sunny corner of his aunt’s yard three hours ago.

She sat back on her ankles, surveying their work for a moment before she picked up her trowel and stood with a smile. “Yes, we can be done now.”

Shiro grinned, abandoning the watering can as he bounded ahead of her toward the house. He couldn’t reach the blessed shade quick enough. As soon as he burst into the entryway he kicked off his damp shoes and collapsed against the chilled tile floor. A great sigh of relief escaped him.

A minute later his mom appeared from the now blinding summer light, closing the front door and encasing them in cool darkness. 

“It’s so hot, Mom,” Shiro groaned from the floor. “We were out there for forever.”

She chuckled at him, fanning herself with her hat and sweeping the curtain of dark hair from her neck. “You’ll be happy we put so much care into the lavender when it grows big and beautiful- and your aunt will be happy when she can make her soaps,” she said, holding out a hand for him to grasp, “Besides, it’s honest work. Doesn’t the tired feel good?”

Shiro stood up, considering the ache in his arms with a frown. “I dunno. I guess.”

His mother just smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “Go shower before dinner, you’re filthy.”

* * *

 

“—Shiro, how’s the humidity level now? Is the heat okay?”

Shiro moved off his knees into a crouch, inadvertently wiping his dirty hands (gloves having been discarded in favor of the tactility of palms on soil) on his t-shirt. He blinked, looking around before he remembered that Pidge was up in the rafters, tinkering with the room’s atmospheric levels. “Feels great, Pidge! I’m sweating already,” he called up, shielding his eyes against the modified lights that shone almost as bright and hot as the summer sun.

“You’re telling me- I’m the one up here,” he heard her mumble.

“Thanks again!” Shiro chuckled as a distant reply wafted down before the catwalk door snapped shut. He sighed contently, looking down at the rows of sprouts that stretched happily toward the sky. Some kind of alien herb, what Hunk referred to as ‘space basil,’ was coming in well enough, but Shiro had a hunch that it would really take with a little extra sun.

His mother’s words rang in his ears, talking about the good kind of tired that came from honest work. It certainly had been work; his back ached from bending over with his trowel all afternoon, and sweat beaded on his forehead just like it had all those years ago in his aunt’s garden. But she was right- a warm sense of pride swelled in his chest. All around him, the turf floor, almost as soft as real grass, was spotted with alien plants poking out of their beds of imported soil. They were odd colors and shapes, but there was something so familiar about their orderly rows all stretching and reaching for life that struck a peaceful chord somewhere deep within him.

“-Hey, watch where you swing that thing!”

“It wasn’t even  _close_ to you, don’t be a baby-”

Shiro sighed, turning to where Keith and Lance were (supposed to be) hammering in fence posts around a newly planted soil bed. “Hey, hey, you know the rules,” he cautioned them with a smile, “No fighting near the tubers. It stresses them out.”

Both paladins opened their mouths to retort but just then the door slid open and in strolled Coran and Allura, bearing glasses of pink liquid dripping with condensation.

“How’s it going, boys?” Coran called, “What’s this I hear about anxious tubers?”

“Just the usual,” Shiro said, “Another peaceful day in the garden.”

The Alteans glanced over to Keith and Lance, who had resumed their bickering. “Well, I guess we came at the right time. A treat, from Hunk.” Allura snickered, holding out a glass for him. “How are our flowers doing?”

Shiro accepted the drink gratefully, dragging his arm across his forehead and taking a long, refreshing draw to ward against the heat of the room. “They’re great! The Cedarian pansies just bloomed the other day,” he nodded toward the center of the room, where a circular patch of soil blossomed with delicate pinks and yellows. It had been Allura’s idea to add flowers to their collection of herbs and produce; the mice helped her paint the short picket fence that surrounded the bed and came out to help both of them tuck the seeds into the soil. 

“Oh, wonderful!” Allura beamed, “I’m sure it will be just lovely when they all bloom.”

“Yes, you’ve got quite the production going, Shiro!” Coran clapped him on the shoulder, “In a few months we’ll have enough food growing in here for a feast!”

* * *

 

“-If I may, team, a word before we eat-” Allura tapped her knife gently against her glass, raising herself off the picnic blanket onto her knees as the murmurs of conversation faded. 

A soft breeze rolled off the lake that stretched out behind them, its rippling waters reflecting the towers of the Castle, sitting only a short distance from where the group had set up for dinner on the newly liberated planet. Allura looked appreciatively at their surroundings, then turned a warm smile to her comrades. “First, I suggest we raise a glass to ourselves for a job well done. Congratulations on another successful mission, Team Voltron-” 

A cheer of agreement rose from the group as everyone clinked their glasses, Lance adding that no, it was alright, he was a humble guy, the superstar of the mission didn’t need his own toast. Everyone rolled their eyes but no one could resist a smile. 

“Now, as always, we must thank our culinary mastermind for another delicious meal.  _Hunk_ , you’ve outdone yourself.” Another clatter of glasses as Hunk waved away her praise with a satisfied smile. “-And lastly, I do believe that we owe Shiro our thanks as well, for providing us with this lovely spread of fresh herbs and vegetables. He- what is your phrase? He is a green thumb!”

Shiro chuckled, shaking his head as the rest of the team raised their glasses and Pidge elbowed him in the side. “Please- thank you, but I can’t take all the credit. It was a team effort, like it should be.”

Everyone exchanged grins, seeming to share the same proud feeling. Hunk called out, “Let’s eat!” and Shiro leaned back as everyone starting digging into dinner, letting his eyes wander over the grassy hills that rolled into the distance. He sucked in a chestful of warm, fresh air, holding it for a moment before exhaling slowly. The grass beneath his hands was soft, the scent wafting from their picnic spread enticing, the laughter ringing among his friends sweet and light. A smile curled over his lips. He sat up and grabbed a plate, digging into the rewards of his honest work.


End file.
